


Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore

by FetidCorpse



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Deception, F/F, Fake Butler AU, I don't know where it's going, It's been fun to write, Mostly Fluff, Nowhere else to go, Self-Doubt, Self-Worth Issues, garlic bread, i don't know where this came from
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:28:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27055684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FetidCorpse/pseuds/FetidCorpse
Summary: Yang wins a massive house.  In order to keep it, she has to live there for a year.  When she arrives, it turns out that the house somehow comes with a butler: Blake.  She doesn't need a butler, but Yang finds herself keeping her sarcastic, impish butler despite not needing one because the house would get lonely without someone to share it with.The truth is: there is no butler.  Blake picked the lock to the back door and was looking for something to pawn to make rent when Yang arrived to take possession of her new house.  The idea of being a butler was an on-the-spot bluff.  Blake stuck around because it looked like being a butler for someone who really didn't seem to need one was a better life than the one she'd been living.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 25
Kudos: 74





	1. Moving in

Yang entered the drawing for the house because Ruby dared her to (she apparently hadn't taught Ruby enough about daring, if this was her idea of a good one). It turned out that it wasn't a scam to get her information, and she won an enormous house. It had defaulted to the state after the owner disappeared and rumors of a haunting arose. The state had neither been able to sell it nor could they find another use that was cost-effective, so it was given away. Yang didn't even have to pay property taxes for the first five years, they were that eager to get rid of it.

She parked in front of the garage and walked to the front door as she fumbled to find the key. It was large, almost as long as her middle finger. She'd only added it to her key ring today, so it was still unfamiliar to her. The front door unlocked, and she opened the door to see a dark-haired woman in a tight black bodysuit under a white overcoat with a pair of dark cat ears on the top of her head staring at the her.

“Hello” Yang sang the word, “they didn't tell me anyone would be here when I moved in.”

“Hi.” The reply she received was somewhat terse. “Of course they wouldn't, are they afraid that a butler would deter someone from buying the house.”

“Butler?” Yang didn't think she looked like a butler. “You're not really dressed for that. I guess I appreciate not having some creaky, old Jeeves, though.”

“How I dress has no bearing on my job performance. How I get paid, on the other hand, does.” Her golden eyes were no longer narrowed, and her words lost their stilted edge.

“Oh grapes, I have no idea what a butler gets paid. They should have told me about this when I won the house.” Yang wasn't sure if she was even supposed to pay this woman. (This woman? Yang, introduce yourself!) “Um, I'm Yang, by the way. Yang Xiao Long.” She offered her hand to her new butler, even if she wasn't sure what she needed a butler for.

“It's nice to meet you, Yang.” The stranger's small hand was enveloped, but her grip wasn't weak. “I've always used the name Blake Belladonna. I can't say I know what a butler is supposed to be paid, either. I was looking for something more stable and this popped up.”

“What were you doing before?” Yang couldn't help but be curious.

Blake turned away and walked to look out a nearby window before answering. “Whatever I had to in order to survive. The gig economy makes it harder to set down roots.”

“I see.” Yang was fairly sure she didn't, but she wasn't going to pry three minutes after meeting Blake. “Have you been waiting long? I would have come a couple days ago if I knew you were here.”

“I only made it inside a few minutes before you did. I wasn't given a key, so I had to work some magic on the back door.”

It didn't escape Yang that Blake had partially evaded the question. She hummed. “I think we should take a look around. I knew this place would be good-sized, but it has exceeded my expectations.”

“You're the boss.” It sounded sincere, but Yang thought there might have been an eye-roll behind it.

“You're not forced to be here, are you? I've heard awful stories about old houses, curses, and faunus enslavement. I never believed them, but I try to keep an open mind.” Yang really hoped she hadn't somehow been involved in human trafficking or something similarly awful.

“I'm here by choice, Yang.” She actually sounded amused. “Maybe everyone else believed in the curse. Shall we?”

They wandered slowly from room to room. Yang found herself wishing she'd brought a map. The house was well-furnished, if in a simple style, and there were enough rooms to house all of her friends and then some if she wanted to host an overnight party. Sheets of various colors covered most of the furniture in the house. Yang looked for meaning in it, but there was no discernible rhyme nor reason to the distribution of colors.

They each had to drag the other out of different rooms to keep their survey on task. Yang dragged Blake out of the library (“You can read them all later. They'll be here for at least five more years.”) While Blake dragged Yang out of the greenhouse (“There aren't any plants growing, so unless your pockets are filled with seeds...”) They both wondered at the auditorium and subterranean grotto (“Blake! There have to be secret passages in this house. Who would build a room you need a canoe to get around in and not build secret passages to get there?” "You might be right, but how would we find them?")

After wandering through the whole house, she turned to Blake. “Do you have your own place, or will you be staying here?”

Blake's eyes widened. “I can stay here?” She looked hopeful.

“Of course. There's room for more if there's anyone you want to bring with.” Yang felt a little sad seeing Blake react so strongly to a minor act of kindness, but she was also happy to know that she brought such an unguarded, bright look to Blake's face. “Any room you want is yours, though I would be a bit worried if you picked the dining room or something.”

Blake mused for a moment, “Any room, huh?” She grinned. “I think I know where to plant my flag.”

Yang trailed behind her as she purposefully walked toward the back of the house and ascended a staircase. Yang started laughing as she realized that Blake was making her way toward the master bedroom.

“'Any room you want', I said.” She said it a bit ruefully, “I'm going to have to be careful what I say around you, aren't I?”

Blake didn't turn immediately, but when she did she looked apprehensive. “You're serious? I can take it?”

“Of course, Blake. You've seen all the other bedrooms. They're all enormous. Besides, if my friend Weiss ever visits, she'll lose it. My sister and I have taught her some humility, but she couldn't conceive of taking a smaller room when the master bedroom was available. Growing up with the kind of privilege she did messes with your head.”

“What is she, a Schnee?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title, like many of the titles I pick, comes from poetry. In this case, it is Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven.
> 
> Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,  
> Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.  
>  “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;  
>  Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—  
> Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—  
>  ’Tis the wind and nothing more!”


	2. Stationary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is going on in Blake's head?

Blake was in over her head. She'd been living in the mansion for almost a week now. _I should leave. It'll only take a visit and a chance word from a state official and I'll be exposed._ Claiming that she was the butler had been the first thing that'd popped into her head when she heard the front door opening.

She had heard that the old mansion on the outskirts of Vale had new owner, but she hadn't expected to meet her. She had hoped to break in and sneak out with a few pieces of art or jewelry before the new owner had a chance to identify and miss them. The enormity of the house had muffled Yang's approach, so Blake had resorted to an infiltration ploy from one of her favorite books to keep her story straight. Thankfully, it wasn't too far off Blake's real story.

The false butler in the book used people's preconceived notions about servants to assassinate racist politicians. Blake didn't have quite the resources to look like the idealized butler (or the self-loathing to act like one), so she decided she'd just be herself. It was easier to remember, and Yang didn't mind Blake pressing her to keep on task for whatever house-work they decided to do each day to make the place livable.

Yang.

Blake didn't know what to make of her. She'd expected to be chased out, to be hounded by the police, or even to be attacked. Yang didn't expect much from Blake. It'd only been six days, but Blake probably averaged about three hours of work a day, and Yang didn't stand back and supervise. Yang always worked beside her.

What's worse, Blake found herself enjoying spending time with Yang. Yang draws her in with her ideas about modernizing the house and making it livable, but also gives her all the space she needs. _I should be leaving. She'll get rid of me when she realizes how little work I'm doing. It'll be just like the White Fang, before I..._ She shakes her head to clear the thought.

She doesn't want to leave. It's kind of early to say for certain, but she's happy here. She's got a roof over her head that doesn't require her to skirmish with police or security guards to cover the escape of those members of her old gang who couldn't for the life of them learn to be stealthy. She's also trusted. Yang falling asleep against her while they were watching a documentary convinced her of that. Blake hasn't been able to find that level of comfort around anyone else since she left her parents' house the last time.

There's still a lot of mystery to Yang. She seems open and bubbly

“Morning is whenever you wake up, Blake. Nora, a friend of mine, would never let a clock or the sun decide it's too late for pancakes.” Yang had said.

She's almost as adept as Blake is at dodging questions. Blake still isn't sure what Yang does for a living. She apparently moved from downtown to the outskirts to live here, but she hasn't left for work yet. She was generous both to let Blake live here, and to abide by Blake claiming the master bedroom. Blake thought it'd be a great joke, but Yang had laughed and accepted it. To top that off, she was somehow a friend of one of the disowned Schnees. Was this Schnee disgraced for being too evil or for having a conscience? Blake wasn't sure how to ask that question.

Blake knows that she has to find a way to tell Yang. Tell her that Blake isn't a butler and just broke in at the best possible time. Tell her about her past with the White Fang, and what she's done to stay alive since. Tell her that she's never been so readily accepted or welcomed, and that she wants to stay. How do you say all of that? _What if I tell her? What if I tell her and she doesn't want me around anymore?_

It keeps Blake up at night.


	3. The Dolt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The butler meets a red gem.

The chime rang out. Someone was at the door. Seeing that Yang was down in the grotto looking for secret passages again, it fell to Blake to answer. She glanced at the page number in her book, memorized it, and set _A Banana for the Knowing Ones, Plain Truths and Earnestness_ by Sun Wukong aside for later. If Yang asked, which she would if she saw Blake reading, it was cleaner than the title implied, but she otherwise couldn't recommend it to anyone literate.

She opts to slide down the banister outside the library to reach the door quicker as it chimes again. She slides the door open to see a small woman in black and red facing away from her.

“Can I help you?”

“Aaah!” The newcomer jumped. “How did you open that so quietly?”

“It's a shy door, so it opens quietly.”

“I see. Wait, no. I don't hear.” She winked at Blake, somehow involving everything above her shoulders in the gesture. “Oh, and I'm here to see my sister Yang. You're Blake, right?”

“Ah, Ruby, you're a day early.”

“Yup.”

“I'm Blake.” She held out her hand. “I'll show you to Yang. She should be in the grotto.”

Ruby shook her hand enthusiastically, “Awesome, have you two found a hidden passage yet?”

“Not yet. We haven't put too much time into it, though. There's still a lot of work ahead to make this place fully livable.” She took Ruby on a circuitous route to the grotto.

Ruby noticed. “Why did we go around?”

“I wondered if you'd notice.”

“What, really?” Her voice was slightly hurt.

“I did. We went around because it's not pleasant to go through the accumulated dust in the rooms on the direct route, particularly for you, as you'd be walking behind me.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” Her exuberance returned.

Ruby didn't talk much as she followed Blake, mostly making noises of excitement as they passed open doorways and she saw more and more of the place. _Definitely sisters, even if they don't look alike. They both have an infectious enthusiasm and earnestness._ They reached the stairs and descended towards a small dock in short order.

“Here's the grotto. Do you know how to pilot a canoe?”

“Uh, nope. I've been in them, but I was a bit small to be in charge.”

“You're in front, then. The back is in charge of steering. Don't splash me with this.” She handed Ruby an oar.

“You got it.”

They glided slowly into the grotto and started looking for Yang in the dim light.

“Should I call out for her?” Ruby asked.

“If you want to. I'd give it another minute though. She's probably at the far end. There are a lot more of the channels in the rocks that allow sunlight in on that end. She won't be able to see us in the dark past those lights and won't know we're coming until we're close. She also might fall in if you startle her, and I don't want to fish her out of the water.”

“You've thought about this before.”

“Yes.”

“Why are there no… Light channels?–” At Blake's nod she continued, “–at this end?”

“There are gas-lamps scattered through the rest of the grotto, but we haven't figured out how to fuel them yet.”

“Ah.”

“Give the side a rap with your oar as we round the corner. It should be enough of a warning that we're here.” As Ruby took the oar behind her shoulders for a powerful blow, Blake interjected. “If you hit it that hard, you'll probably fall out of the canoe. It'd be amusing, but I'll lose reading time if I have to pull you out.”

“Oh, thanks Blake.” Ruby lowered her oar and held it about a foot away from the hull of the canoe and gave it two hearty thwacks. She shifted a bit in her seat from the effort. “Yeah, would definitely have fallen in.”

“Wait until I maneuver us to the dock before you try to get out. Getting in or out is when most people fall into the water. I'll try to keep it stable.”

“Aye aye, cap'n.”

As they rounded the corner, they saw Yang outlined in a corona of channeled sunlight. “Ruby?” Yang sounded surprised, but brightened at the sight of the two of them. “I knew you couldn't stay away for long.”

“I had to see it for myself. Satellite photos and the contest listing don't really show how large this place is.” Ruby called back.

“What do you think of it so far?”

“I think you're right about secret passages. Who'd build a house this big without them?” As Ruby asked the question, Blake brought the canoe to dock behind Yang's, and Ruby gingerly stepped onto the dock. She sprinted down them and threw herself into Yang's arms.

“Weiss. She'd never build secret passages. They're not practical enough for her, because she'd never think of using them for fun.” Yang wrapped Ruby in a hug. “I'm glad you're here.”

Ruby squeaked, “Thanks, but I'm telling her you said that.”

Yang quickly swept Ruby over her shoulder and started marching toward the end of the docks.

“I won't tell her, I was just joking.” She didn't seem to have the strength to evade Yang's grasp. “Blake, avenge me!”

“She's the one who pays me, Ruby. Sorry.”

“Noooo!”

Yang set Ruby down at the end of the dock. “Ruby. You really think I'd throw you in the water for telling Weiss that? I say the same thing or worse every time she starts talking about networking and logistics.”

“That's how you taught me to swim!”

“Fair point, but that was eighteen years ago. I don't remember throwing you in a pond ever since.” Yang turned to Blake. “Thanks Blake. If you want to get back to reading, feel free. I'll take her back to the entrance with this canoe when we're done here.”

Blake gave a sarcastic salute, which Yang barked a laugh at, and pushed off from the docks with her canoe.

As she paddled back to the entrance, she heard Ruby ask, “So, why do you have a butler?”

“Oh, she was already here when I got here, and it seemed like a good idea to have help when I tackled this place.”

“She's not cursed to be here, is she?” Blake softly laughed at Ruby's follow up question, and only barely heard Yang's response as she paddled away from the sisters.

“That was the first thing I asked, and she said no.” Anything else was swallowed by distance and gentle sloshing of the water in the grotto as Blake made her back toward the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the curious, the book mentioned in the beginning is real. A Pickle for the Knowing Ones, or Plain Truths in a Homespun Dress, was written by a fool and self-proclaimed lord, Timothy Dexter, in 1802. Imagine the most moronic, indecipherable social media post you've ever read, then length it to 40 or so pages, misspell everything, and remove all punctuation. That's what Dexter wrote. It's not the sort of book that you can recommend to anyone who doesn't have a bile fascination with linguistics or language. Dexter did not understand what exactly should be in a book. It's mostly written as a stream of consciousness but is punctuated by a few letters that he received and replied to.  
> What Remnant's counterpart written by Sun Wukong would be, I leave to your imagination.


	4. Garlic Bread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake experiences dinner with Yang and Ruby.

Dinner with the sisters was an experience. Ruby insisted that Yang's spaghetti sauce was to die for, but Yang had played it off when Ruby stepped outside to bring her suitcase into the house.

“Ruby has simple tastes when it comes to food. I just throw three popular brands in the pot together. Maybe I can learn to make it from scratch when we get the garden growing.”

“I guess that sounds like a good way to go about it, Yang. Cooking is a deep magic to me. I can cook with a fire and its coals, but I never had time to learn to do more than heat water for my tea in the kitchen.”

“Oh!” Yang looked excited. “I'll teach you what I can. I learned by cooking, and so did Ruby. Throw on an apron and let's get going.”

Blake threw a lazy salute. “Oh captain, my captain.”

“I'm not dead, but I appreciate the support.”

“Oh, I didn't think you'd know it from the poem.” Blake smiled as she tied on an apron.

“I went off the deep end in poetry a few years back.” Yang gestured with her prosthetic “I don't think there's a poet who didn't write about loss and love.”

“Understandable.” _Is this an opening to ask about it?_

Ruby jogged back into the room as Blake tried out a few questions in her head. “How can I help, Yang?”

“Stay away from the garlic bread and grab whatever spices you want from that cabinet.” _I'll ask next time._

“Yang, I didn't even sneak any yet!”

“I've known you your whole life, Ruby.”

Ruby turned to Blake. “Can you believe this, my own sister accusing me of being a thief.”

“You've been staring at the garlic bread since you walked in, and you checked your mouth for drool when Yang mentioned it earlier.”

“We had an opportunity to unite against Yang's tyranny. We could have worked together for the garlic bread. For the garlic bread, Blake!”

Blake, bemused, turned to Yang. “This is the real reason she's excited about spaghetti, isn't it?”

“Yeah.”

“So, what do you do, Ruby?” Blake asked after they sat down to eat, interrupting Ruby's love affair with garlic bread.

“For work?”

“That's as good a place to start as any.”

“Well, I work with Yang and our friend Weiss. We founded Chromatic Design a few years ago.”

Yang jumped in, “If someone wants to build a new building with style, they come to us. Weiss handles the money side of the business and arranging clients. She knows the worst of so-called high society, and helps us avoid designing anything for people who don't support faunus equality or are otherwise awful.”

“A Schnee who doesn't stand for Faunus oppression?” Blake was sure she believed that.

“Yes, it's one of the reasons she was disinherited. We didn't put up with it when we met her.” Yang said.

“Yeah, we didn't get through to her until she heard people gossiping about her.” Ruby added. “Once she knew how her family is viewed by people who aren't fancy, she listened.”

“Getting her away from her father made a difference.” Yang said. “She was able to read the news about the Faunus Civil Rights movement from unbiased sources and realized why the Schnee Industrial Company was a target. She started trying to be better after that.”

“I see.” Blake murmured.

“Anyway, back to what we do, Ruby designs the buildings or installations, sometimes we do more artistic work. Then I have to clean up after her.”

“Yang!”

“Haha, you know it's true, Ruby.” Yang ruffled Ruby's hair (“Yang!”). “You've got a knack for designing buildings people like to look at, but they're flimsy. They'd keel over if I didn't plan for the practicalities like wind and wear.”

Before Ruby could start arguing, Blake asked “So, what are you most proud of?”

The sisters replied in unison. “The Vale Memorial Arch.”

“You designed it?”

“Yep,” Yang smiled. “we refused it at first, but their second choice was Henry Marigold. He has no taste. Everything he designs is bland and austere.”

“So we designed something to celebrate Vale's history, from founding through about ten years ago.” Ruby's voice rose in excitement. “And, we left room for more additions in Vale's future history. Does that make sense?”

“It does to me. I was happy to see that Vale's early oppression of the Faunus was included. I expected the usual white-washed view of history when I visited the arch.” Blake looked between the sisters. “Was that your idea?”

“It was.” Yang replied. “We fought for it for a year after we shared the idea with Weiss. We eventually enlisted Beacon's history department (“they totally love Weiss for taking all their classes” – Ruby) to help us persuade the council that we need to know rather than hide our history in order to learn from it. They contributed a few articles that persuaded two hold-out council members that we needed to get majority and thus full approval for our design.”

“I don't know if I could endure a year of bureaucracy like that.” _But then, taking shortcuts hasn't worked out for me, either._

“We kept the ideals of rightness and justice in mind. It was easy to persevere that way.” Ruby crushed a piece of garlic bread in her hand as she channeled an orator's spirit. “Oh no!”

“We've been through this before, Ruby. Drop it in your spaghetti sauce.” This was apparently nothing new to Yang.

“I know. I just wanted to crunch it in my teeth, not my hand. Hand chewing isn't satisfying or efficient.”

“Efficient?” Blake didn't see the need for efficiency in eating.

Yang answered while Ruby extolled the virtues and glories of efficiency in the background. “She doesn't like wasting energy. We eventually persuaded her to keep it to work and mostly not in her personal life.”

Blake nodded as though she understood and took another piece of the rapidly-vanishing garlic bread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The combine-three-different-brands style of making spaghetti sauce absolutely works, by the way, if you're cooking a meal for a group and don't have time to make it from scratch. Toss in a bay leaf and whatever spices are under-represented in your sauce and you'll probably get compliments.


	5. The Snow Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would Weiss be like if she didn't meet Blake until years after Yang and Ruby?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found the time to write again. I hope you enjoy it.

As soon as the door to the greenhouse closed behind her, Weiss rounded on Yang. “Yang, why is your butler so mean?”

“Mean?” Yang was confused. “Do you mean sarcastic?”

“No. She wouldn't take my coat.” Weiss pouted. The coat was still over her arm.

“Did she say anything?”

“No.”

“Did you say anything?”

“I just asked where you were and proffered the coat to her.”

“Proffered! Weiss, there's no need for that kind of language. We're friends, not law clerks.”

“Ugh, it's faster than saying that I held it out for her to take. Ruby would appreciate the efficiency.”

“She would, but only after you taught her the word.” As Weiss reluctantly nodded, Yang wheeled back to Blake. “So did you introduce yourself, ask her name, or do anything to demonstrate that you're not what a faunus would expect when she hears that you're a Schnee?”

“I didn't think of that. I assumed you'd told her that I wasn't my father.”

“I did, but she was understandably hesitant to believe me.”

“And I knew her name from Ruby.”

“So you took a shortcut. I get that, but...” Yang put her head in her hands, before straightening up and wearily addressing Weiss. “You have to treat people as people, Blake's profession doesn't determine her worth. Property does not confer value or quality.”

“I know that. I just.” Her face scrunched up as she struggled. “I haven't been back to my father's house since I was 19. This place is the closest to the Manor I've been to in years. I think I left some bad habits there.” As Yang opened her mouth, Weiss headed her off. “Don't, I get it. Do you know where she'll be? I should probably head this off and apologize.”

“Well, if she isn't listening at the door, the library is on the second floor. Take a right, a left, and go up when you reach the stairs. Good luck.”

Weiss took a deep breath, “Thanks.” She dropped her coat next to Yang and swept out the greenhouse door toward the library.

Ten minutes later, she came back to the greenhouse with a spring in her step.

“The snow angel melted a heart of stone?”

“Ugh, the nicknames.”

“Please, you like them when they're affectionate and not hitting on you, like Neptune after the first time, Jaune, or Henry.”

Yang tried not to laugh at Weiss wanting to object while knowing that it was the truth.

Weiss relented, “She accepted an apology and recommended a few books. I hope you don't mind, but I left them by the front door for later.”

“Good, if she didn't recommend kids' books, she forgave you.”

“I don't think they were for children. Did you look over Ruby's design for the wind farm entrance?”

“I'm about halfway through the stress test simulation. We'll get it done in time.”

“Good.”

“So, what do you think of the place?” Yang gestured around her.

“It seems nice, but I'm glad you're not alone here.”

“Me too.”

“I have to ask, though, why do you have a butler?”

“She came with the house.”

“She came with the house?”

“She was already here when I moved in.”

“I see. Is she here to spy on you?”

“Who'd want to spy on me?”

“Henry Marigold, for one. Anyone else trying to compete with us might also try.”

“She's never asked me about work, nor has she shown much interest in it. A spy would play the part of the butler. She stands out too much.”

“If you're sure...”

“I am.” Yang, not wanting Weiss to drag her down a paranoid rabbit-hole, changed the subject. “What do you think I should plant against the south wall?”

“There was one that Klein put in my room when I was little that I liked. It closed its leaves at night. It wasn't very bright there, but it still grew. You won't have much light against the wall, so it might work.”

“Do you know what it was?”

“I'll ask Klein. If he doesn't remember, he'll find out what it was.”

The rest of the Weiss's visit passed uneventfully. After she left, Yang sought out Blake. She started with the library.

“Bla-a-ake!” Yang looked around, not seeing Blake in any of the chairs.

“Hey.” The subdued voice came from a table right behind her. Yang jumped.

“Were you there the whole time?” She sat down in the chair next to Blake, who looked tired.

“Yes. It's weird to hear that many syllables in my name.”

“How did I miss you?” She paused. “Wait, weird in a bad way?”

“It's recessed into the wall. I was probably outside your peripheral vision.” Blake spoke softly. “Just weird as in unfamiliar, not bad.”

“Okay.” Yang put on a smile. “Did everything go well with Weiss?”

“Yeah, she seemed to realize what she did and apologized. Did you make her do that?"

"I was going to, but she did it on her own."

Blake looked a little brighter at that news. "That's more encouraging than if you'd berated her into it." She looked sideways at Yang, "She told me the story about you and welding a frat's door shut.”

Yang couldn't help but growl, “They had it coming. They were already on academic probation when they started trying to prank every other university organization. That isn't unusual, but they were malicious. They got off on hurting people and ruining their hard work. They went after some friends of mine, one a faunus, the other blind.”

“People they hoped wouldn't fight back.”

“Yes. But these two did. The blind guy, Fox, really turned on the crocodile tears when reporting them to the city police, while Velvet, the faunus, set up the cameras and livestreams of those idiots trying to open the door I welded shut.”

“How'd they open it?”

“They didn't. One of them had the bright idea to take out the windows near the door and wrap a chain around it. They pulled out the doorframe, and most of the siding on the frathouse, and some of the architectural support for the front of the house. It was a pretty easy case for the owner of the place they rented. The frat went bankrupt and doesn't have a chapter at Beacon anymore. The rest of their pranks caught up to them thanks to the discovery phase of their trial, and most of those assholes were expelled.”

“Do you still have the videos?” Yang nodded to her. “I'd like to see that.”

“I'll pull them up before our next movie.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Yang felt that a change of subject was in order, “So, I've been trying to decide what to do with the grounds. There's so much empty space around the house. It could use some trees or shrubs or something else more interesting than grass.” She did genuinely want to add some trees, but she was mostly trying to distract Blake from whatever thoughts were going through her head after meeting Weiss.

Blake shrugged.

It wasn't working.

“What kind of trees would you plant, Blake?” Yang wasn't going to give up easily. “What kind of tree would you like to read under?”

“Plum, apple, mulberry, cherry, pecan, and walnut for eating. Splice peach limbs onto an apple if they don't grow here naturally. For reading, anything with a wide canopy will do.”

“That's a lot of fruit trees. Did you grow up with them?”

“No, but Menagerie had other treasures. I learned to appreciate fresh fruit in my years on the road.”

“Years? You've never put down roots?” Yang wanted to ask more, but she wasn't sure how open Blake was willing or able to be.

“Not since I left home. I tried, but nothing ever worked out.”

“Now you can. You've been here since its new beginning.”

Blake rolled her eyes, “All of a month, I'm a local blue blood.”

Yang laughed, “You somehow beat me here. I think that gives you seniority where it applies.”

Why was Blake grimacing at that?

“Hey,” she bumped shoulders with Blake. “I can't help with what's haunting you if you don't tell me.”

Blake sighed, “I'm trying to wrap my head around it. I'll tell you when the words come to me.”

“That's all I ask.” Yang paused. “I'm going to order a pizza tonight. It's always draining trying to remind Weiss how the world works for real people. I don't think I have the energy to cook. Preference?”

“If they have a seafood pizza, I'd go for it.”

“I might have to order two, then. I don't mind trying seafood pizza, but I'd like a backup option in case I don't like it.”

“Seems prudent–”

“Thanks?”

“–or cowardly.” Blake grinned.

“There it is.” Yang couldn't help but smile back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was not interested in writing a Weiss who came across as racist, but I think that Jacques's Schnee Manor, in any universe, leaves scars. Here you saw some of Weiss's scars.


End file.
